A humble-looking Savanite servant leads two physicians up what seem to be endless flights of stairs that go along the outer tiers of the palace and occasionally within its walls. It would be so much easier to fly … but none in this group have wings, and the palanquins that occasionally fly overhead – borne by Vartans or eeee – are certainly not carrying the likes of them.

Wisps of clouds drift by, hardly casting shadows as they past before the shining sun which warms the bricks of the uppermost levels of the city of Babel. Every once in a while, the path that the group takes affords a view of the distant tower – that is, to those of them who can see such things.

Flemm, a heavy-set Badger, pants as he climbs stair after stair, with a strange-looking apparatus strapped to his back. "How… much… further… can it be… ?"

Roho carefully ascends the steps, wary lest someone forget to tell him that the steps are ending, causing a most undignified spill, "I don't know, but it's good exercise!" He forces a grin, panting a little…

The golden-furred cheetah doesn't give any answer. But then, such is not expected of her station. It looks like the stairs are going to give way to another garden tier soon, though, unless that corner reveals another set of steps that cannot be seen from here.

However, such is not the case – that is, that another flight of steps is ahead. Well, a few short ones, but past those can be seen a garden – The paths heretofore have taken the group past and around but not into one of these terraced wonders of the palace.

Once inside, the cheetah stops and looks around at the trees and bushes. There's even a fountain … though getting the water pressure this high should be quite a feat and worth study by an engineer or wizard if such were present.

Roho stops at the top, a little winded, and sniffs around, clearly surprised to be smelling water and plants this high…

Large discs hang suspended from the stonework of higher levels of the palace, each one of them large enough to hold a few trees and sub-gardens of their own. Only those with wings (or ladders) would likely be able to reach them without risking life and limb.

Flemm reaches the top of the stairs, and leans back against the wall. "By the First ones, what a climb."

The cheetah walks a few tentative steps forward, and looks around some trees. Her ears flick and her eyes register surprise. To one who cannot see, this would be missed, but for one with especially keen ears, there is the unmistakeable quick intake of breath that registers as a very quiet gasp.

Roho perks his ears towards some voices a little ways distant, trying to pick out what they say…

The Savanite turns back toward the two physicians, and looks as if she is trying to gesticulate some sort of directions to them – perhaps to stay, perhaps to move on ahead – but her hands are fumbling, and she keeps looking about as if she would right now very very much rather be gone. And so, as it is, she quickly leaves, going out the way that the group came in, leaving the physicians to guess at just what they are expected to do next.

Roho chuckles at Flemm, "Umm… was that our guide leaving?"

"… and I know not what to make of it… " comes a male voice, heard faintly, from beyond the trees. "… My hands are tied. What hope is there? Who can stand against the will of the Sabaoth?"

Flemm grumps slightly. "It seems so, indeed. But… *wheeze* I need a few moments of rest before I go on."

For those in need of rest, fortunately there are several stone benches and couches to be seen. The couches are of stone, but with pillows on them, making them much more favorable for seating, though a bit low for just sitting down comfortably.

Over to one side, in the opposite direction of the voices, there is some movement amongst the branches. A dark form slithers among the branches. There's a quiet *snip snip* sound, and some little bits of foliage flutter to the earth and tiles below.

Flemm can be heard walking to the bench, and loud clinking and clattering sounds can be heard as he checks on his treatment apparatus.

Sarai's voice carries faintly through the muffling barrier of foliage. Her voice has begun to tremble slightly, despite her best efforts. "… but surely you must be able to do something… "

Roho moves over towards the snipping sounds…

The male bat sighs. "… There must be. … " but his voice fades even more to the fennec's ears as he investigates the snipping. There is another movement in the branches. A small black coil twirls around the branch. Something shiny pokes out from the leaves. *snip snip*. Some more bits of wood and leaves flutter downward.

Roho moves back towards the voices, interested in the conversation… maybe they've tried to heal the Sabaoth?

Flemm finally catches his breath, and glares at Roho… but realizes this might be his chance to 'cure' the Saboath first. He walks around the garden…

"… I hate to say such a thing, but perhaps … perhaps if the Sabaoth was not healed… " the male voice says, but the trailing off is not just a change in the wind. Rather, he seems to be losing his momentum, and is likely shaking his head in dismay at the direction of his comments.

Roho sighs as the voices die off. He goes back to Flemm, and calls to nobody in particular, "Hello?"

The male bat reaches for a nearby bush, plucking a blossom from its branches, the leaves shaking and bouncing as it breaks free. He strokes the petals, and breathes in its fragrance. "I remember when I first laid eyes upon you, Sarai. There was no indecision. My heart was already decided. There would be none other. … There shall be no oth – " He breaks off, almost dropping the blossom as he jerks his head toward the voice. He involuntarily takes a step back, disturbing the bush again as he brushes against it.

Flemm calls out as well, "Hello? Hello? I am here to heal the Sabaoth!"

Sarai looks up quickly, then looks towards the voices.

Roho chuckles, "Our guide left us, could someone show us where we are to go?"

The male bat looks at the blossom in his hands, and then to Sarai. He smiles mirthlessly, and places it in her hair, where it does not look quite in place, and is likely to fall out as soon as she moves from her current position, but there it is. He leans low and murmurs, "I must show them to my father. Somehow, I will find a way … or I shall die trying."

Sarai nods slightly. "Speak with him," she faintly murmurs. "But don't keep care from him," she adds, guessing at his mind. "If it is to be his life or mine… " She gently pats Boghaz's shoulder, but remains seated on the couch.

Roho stands quietly, giving the appearance of just waiting, but listening to the conversation…

The tall dark bat looks to Sarai for a moment, then closes his eyes and nods his head. He then straightens up and walks around the edge of the trees, wearing very light armor that is more ornamental than truly protective, pieces made from the shells of the crabshoe-like creatures known as 'skedats'. There is a very faint flush to his ears, but it is already fading. He fixes his steely gaze on the badger and fox. "I am Boghaz bar Sabaoth. Welcome to the palace of my father, you who shall bring him healing. I shall take you to him, so that you may see his condition for yourselves. … "

Boghaz adds, "… but you are not to tell anyone beyond these walls of what you see. The Sabaoth shall not be dishonored by speech of his afflictions any more than need be."

Flemm nods, bowing to Boghaz. "I shall be the very soul of discretion," he replies smoothly.

Roho smiles to Boghaz and bows slightly, "My name is Roho, and I shall tell nothing of which I observe."

The bat's ears twitch slightly. "Roho." He squints his eyes, then looks the fennec up and down. "You are the blind travelling healer?"

Roho grins, and smiles at Boghaz again, his clouded eyes showing clearly, "Well, I guess there can't be too many blind travelling healers… "

"Word of your deeds are not unknown here," Boghaz states in such a way that is very level and perhaps overly controlled. "If the tales are true, then it is fortunate indeed that you have come." He looks to the badger. "And you?"

Roho's ears go just a little pink, and he smiles.

Boghaz hardly gives enough time to answer, before he gruffly states, "I waste time with idle chit-chat and introductions. If either of you can offer healing, you will be well-known – and rewarded – soon enough. Let us be on."

Flemm says, "I am Flemm Eshdahn, and-"

Roho nods, and follows Boghaz.

Flemm nods to Boghaz. "As you say."

With that, the dark bat spins on his heel and marches toward the far side of the garden, along a path that disappears from sight amongst some flowered trees.

Flemm walks along behind Boghaz, silent except for the clinking of his vials.

The path turns around and leads to another tier. The bat looks as if he's about to simply fly up once he's out of the trees, but he looks to his wingless companions and folds his wings back.

Up the steps the bat goes with long strides, and into the palace. There are no torches or lanterns burning, but the interior is well-lit enough, for there are many windows and openings – free of glass or other obstruction, making it a very open environment indeed.

Roho follows Boghaz quickly, scampering up the steps behind him.

Servants and slaves can be seen here and there, mostly Naga and Savanites. There aren't nearly so many bats.

The ceiling is high for a while, but now Boghaz heads into a corridor that is darker – that does indeed require lanterns at intervals. After all, such open areas mean limited security … and these corridors lead to the private chamber of the resting Sabaoth.

A couple of massive Vartans stand to each side of the doorway that leads into the lavishly-decorated chamber that bursts with life. Sunlight is somehow coming in, through shafts along all four walls, along the edges of the ceiling, though one cannot directly see the sky from here.

Roho follows Boghaz into the chamber, and halts in the doorway.

Gilded cages hold colorful Creens who flutter about and occasionally stop to trill and chiree cheerful calls.

Sarai quietly pads along the corridor, remaining well back from Boghaz and the rest of the group.

Boghaz at first looks up toward the ceiling, then jerks his head, as if suddenly remembering something, and his gaze instead goes toward a bedroll in the center of the floor, where a reclining form can be seen which looks not at all like the majesty associated with the Sabaoth, Immortal Ruler of Babel, Overlord of Ashdod, Master of All He Surveys from On High.

Instead, the bat breathes very slowly, eyes closed, his face gaunt and evidencing weariness even in rest.

Flemm waits silently, bowing his head to the Sabaoth.

Boghaz bows. In the high-pitched eeee tongue, he says, "Father. Please forgive my intrusion, my disturbing of your rest. But there are two here to see you, who may bring you healing."

Roho bows low in the entryway, placing his fingers to his shoulder, but says nothing until Boghaz is done.

If the Sabaoth even notices the arrival, he gives no evidence of it. After an uncomfortable pause, Boghaz at last looks to the others, and nods, motioning for them to enter.

"You are to administer no medications," Boghaz warns sternly. "You are only to find your diagnosis. If you disturb him greatly, it will not go well for you."

Flemm nods to Boghaz, and strides boldly ahead to the bedroll where the Sabaoth lies.

Roho starts forward, then steps back again as Flemm goes forward, letting the badger try first.

The gaze of the son of the Sabaoth does not leave the badger, his eyes following the physician's approach, his arms crossed in a less-than-friendly posture.

Sarai quietly moves to stand a pace behind and to the right of Boghaz.

Flemm bends down by the side of the Sabaoth, and for the next few minutes, makes his examination. A trained physician might wonder at some of the examinations he performs, but to the untrained eye, it seems like a serious and intense testing.

Boghaz' eye is certainly untrained. He seems a little less uncertain of the badger, impressed at his serious approach to examining the Saboath's illnesses.

The Sabaoth seems largely unresponsive to the examination. At times, his eyelids crack open just a bit, and his eyes flick about, but focus on nothing, and they soon close again.

Flemm places one end of a stethoscope on the Sabaoth's chest, and says softly, "If you would, please, breathe as hard as you are able, my Lord Sabaoth?"

A rasp comes from the Sabaoth's throat, perhaps in response to hearing Flemm's admonition, or just as possibly a reaction to having the cold instrument placed against his chest.

Boghaz's expression contorts a little, and he gives the distinct impression of someone who would much rather not be here right now. He averts his gaze, avoiding looking directly upon his father in such a condition.

Flemm hmmms… mumbling a bit… making a few more tests… then standing up, bowing to the Sabaoth, and stepping back.

Roho stands with his arms folded, waiting for Flemm to finish.

A long hiss comes through the Sabaoth's mouth, as he moves a little more. "… sit up… " he hisses. "… let me sit up… "

Flemm is now back by Roho, and silent, apparently in deep thought.

Sarai edges a bit more fully behind Boghaz as the Sabaoth asks to sit up.

Roho turns to Boghaz, "May I come forward?"

Boghaz bites his lip, and jerks his head at Roho's statement. He bites out an answer of "Yes," agitation unconcealed.

The son of the Sabaoth looks around the room, his eyes falling on a large pile of pillowy cushions resting against one wall. He glowers, and walks toward the pile, keeping a wide berth of his father's bedroll.

Sarai watches Boghaz closely from the shadowed doorway, an expression of worry beginning to cross her features.

Roho moves forward and kneels down next to Sabaoth. He places a paw on his stomach and chest, and rests his ear against the chest, listening for a few shallow breaths…

Boghaz picks up one of the large pillows and comes back. For a moment, he stands there, holding the pillow in both hands, looking at the fox, looking at his father.

Flemm waits silently, watching Roho's medical investigations.

Roho feels the sides of Sabaoth's throat with his fingertips, and checks around his stomach more.

At last, the warrior bat kneels down, a position his garments do not allow comfort in … nor his station. He carefully lifts up the Sabaoth, to slide the large cushion behind him, to allow him to sit up a bit more. He seems to give little care to whether he might be interrupting with the physician's examination.

Roho sits back and waits til Boghaz is done…

The Sabaoth's mouth betrays yellowed teeth – unheardof for someone of such high station. His breath smells of chicory, and his pulse is erratic – very slow and faint most of the time, but speeding up as he is disturbed from his reclining position.

The older bat's eyelids flutter open, and his gaze darts about the room, struggling to focus on anything. His eyes alight upon the entrance to the chamber. His mouth cracks into something resembling a smile. "… ahh… my flower… " he breathes. "… my beautiful flower, come to see me … Come in … "

Roho bows his head, "I'm sorry, your majesty… " He lifts one lip and touches the tip of a finger to the gum…

Boghaz' brows wrench into a furrow, and he jerkily finishes arranging the cushions to allow his father a more comfortable position. As soon as that is finished, he backs away, giving the fennec plenty of room for his work … and keeping out of the field of vision of his father and lord.

Sarai wilts slightly but slowly moves into the room, her eyes only flicking towards Boghaz briefly. "Yes, Sabaoth," she murmurs softly.

Sabaoth is, for all one can tell, perfectly oblivious to the fennec's probing of his mouth and how it looks. He keeps smiling at Sarai, his eyes only briefly regarding her face. "… flower… " he murmurs.

Sarai quietly pads to the Sabaoth's side, eyes lowered. Slowly, she kneels near his side, adjusting her wrappings slightly.

Roho finishes a few more investigations, then presses one large ear against his stomach again. He presses down, listening intently. He keeps his ear there for nearly a minute.

With an effort that causes his breath to rasp again and his pulse beat a little more strongly, the Sabaoth reaches up with a shaking hand to brush at Sarai's long tresses of silken hair. "Saraizadze… " he rasps. "… soon I will be well again, and you shall wait no longer."

Roho raises his head, and faces Boghaz. "I can help him."

Boghaz whispers, "You have found a fine prize, Father," his voice uneven. He looks to Roho, then back to the Sabaoth, "… and you will certainly be well again soon." He doesn't sound terribly enthusiastic, but yet he does not sound sarcastic, either.

Sarai's eyes begin to water. After fumbling for words for a few moments, she manages to say, "Do not tire yourself, Lord… "

Sabaoth smiles, brushing Sarai's hair a while longer, then lets his hand fall back to his side. "Once I am well … " he sighs, and his eyes slowly close again.

Roho stands, "His blood is thin, because it is being taken into the stomach. It is what is weakening him, and causing his pulse to be so unsteady."

Boghaz looks to Roho. "Then, there is no need for us to bother the Sabaoth any longer. Let us leave the room, and you can speak of your plans for a cure then." Without waiting for a response, he leads the way back to the corridor.

Flemm makes a few hmmming and hmmmphing noises at Roho. They might be taken as disagreement, or agreement just as easily.

Roho nods, and follows Boghaz into the corridor.

Flemm walks along with the departing group.

Sarai slowly stands, head bowed. She wipes the tears from her eyes before looking up. With a deep breath, she moves to follow the physicians.

Boghaz' path takes them not all that far down the corridor, around a bend, and into another chamber, this one also not open to the sky, though sunlight still filters in through a similar arrangement of shafts. It lacks the floral arrangements and singing exotic Creens of the previous chamber, though in other regards it is very similar.

Two Vartan guards – a match for those outside the Sabaoth's chamber – can be found here, though they are inside the room rather than outside. There is also a cheetah here, hands bound behind his back. He sits on a mat, looking (and smelling, for those who can scent such things) distressed.

Boghaz turns toward Flemm. "Here is your subject. Demonstrate your cure."

Another cheetah stands near the Vartans. He earns a glance from Boghaz. "And if anything is needed, it will be sent for."

Flemm nods to Boghaz. "This will take a few moments… ", he replies, as he readies a strange-looking apparatus, of several tubes and pumps. "I will need some fresh water, and a small fire nearby."

Boghaz snaps his fingers, and hardly needs to gesture to the second cheetah servant – before the latter is gone in a golden flash.

The cheetah returns with two others, bearing a pot of water, and some other materials. It is not long before a fire is started in a pit near the center of the chamber, the smoke drawing out through the shafts along the perimeter of the ceiling.

Flemm removes some vials and packets of herbs from his cloak, and begins to set to work, mixing them. Strange smells can be detected, though quite faintly…

Sarai remains near the rear of the room, apparently busy rearranging her wrappings.

Flemm sets water into a flask, boiling it… heating some herbs in the water once boiling, some on a pan with no water. the scents are stronger now, and smell highly exotic.

Boghaz stands with his back against a wall, watching with something that might hint at disinterest … but any facade of his expression is lost on Roho, for the bat's scent speaks of tension and anticipation.

Flemm completes the mixtures, and holds up a vial filled with a hot, yellow-orange fluid. He gestures to the standing Savanites. "Help hold this one's mouth open," he says, as he readies the strange machine…

Two of the Savanites oblige, one holding the struggling subject still while the other pries his mouth open.

Sarai looks over towards Boghaz nervously. And wonders who will be daring enough to so restrain the Sabaoth.

Flemm inserts mone tube into each of the Savanite's nostrils, and slides a longer one down his throat, carefully. He pours the hot liquid into a funnel, and squeezes on a rubber bulb full of air…

Roho winces, but says nothing…

Sarai winces and averts her eyes from the scene.

The cheetah struggles horribly, his face going into wild contortions, and his legs kicking about until the third cheetah comes along and abruptly sits on them.

Boghaz' eyes narrow to slits as he imagines this 'treatment' being foisted upon the Sabaoth. Yet, he stills his hand, watching to see what happens next.

The Savanite starts to gurgle as the fluid runs down the tube into his throat, and his nostrils flare out wildly, mucus being pulled from the nose into the machine. Flemm keeps squeezing on the bulb, pumping the liquid down…

Sarai turns her gaze towards Boghaz, her eyes pleading. Even the slaves shouldn't be forced to endure this…

Flemm stops squeezing, and pulls the tubes away, as the Savanite gasps for a pure breath. "There now… horribly messy, I know it must look, but it will cure the Saboath right up."

The cheetah's eyes water terribly, and then … the subject begins sneezing and wheezing violently at the badger.

The cheetahs restraining the subject loosen just a bit as the treatment ends, but … that's all that's needed for them to be sent tumbling as the panicked subject jolts upward, his body shaking and wheezing, everything about him spelling out his agony and distress in plain terms.

The subject strains at his bonds, finally breaking the flimsy restraints free. He starts making wild hand signs, but, of course, they're lost on anyone who doesn't know Savanite sign. Whatever the slave is trying to 'say', it surely isn't pleasant.

Boghaz avoids giving any notice to Sarai's gaze, but he stands still no longer. "Your prescription would cure the Sabaoth … just as well as one might cure a bromthen hide. Scoundrel! Do you believe us all fools?"

Flemm stands, trying to cover his tracks. "Well, this is the first time I have used my device on a Savanite! It has worked fine for every badger, Jupani, and Eeee I have used it on… "

Flemm mumbles under his breath, too low for anyone but Roho to pick up… "One of each… "

"Sieze the charlatan!" the bat warrior snarls, commanding the two musclebound Vartans into action. He picks up a weapon fashioned of a skedat from his side and slides it over his forearm, the long, barbed, whipped tail dangling downward – He stands nearby, looking more than ready to lend a hand if the badger proves overly resistant.

Roho blinks at the commands! He takes a few shocked steps back, almost slipping in a puddle of the 'cure'.

"Drive him all the way to the gates," Boghaz growls. He snaps to one of the cheetahs, "And see to it that there is a crowd there to jeer and throw debris at him every step of the way."

Flemm gasps… "No! No! I can cure him! You don't expect the medicines to have the same effects on a different species, after all, I… " his voice fades away as he is dragged off.

Boghaz looks down in disgust at the shaking subject of Flemm's demonstration. "Take him away," he bids to the two remaining (and standing) cheetahs. "Put him to bed. I shall be displeased if we have wasted a perfectly good slave on account of this."

Soon, the room is empty save for the two bats and the fox, the firepit, and what's left of Flemm's demonstration.

Sarai remains quietly in the background, just watching the proceedings.

Roho coughs uncomfortably, and looks unsure of what to say…

Boghaz' gaze returns to Roho. "The gods deal severely with me if you cannot do any better."

Roho rasps, "I'm certain my treatment will be less… catastrophic."

"What is in order?" Boghaz asks. "I seem to have deprived myself of any more runners to be sent out to fetch another subject immediately."

Roho shakes his head, "I don't need anything that's not already here… "

Roho bends over the firepit, and takes a thick bundle of leaves from one of his pouches, which he sniffs at. He tears two of them into small pieces, and places them in a fresh pot of water over the fire.

Boghaz looks off into the distance, judging the darkening of the light that comes through the shafts. "There is little time." He looks back to Roho. "You will demonstrate on me."

Boghaz looks to Sarai. "You may be dismissed. Send back a couple of guards, in case any assistance is required."

Roho looks surprised, then nods slowly, "I promise you will come to no harm." He forces a grin, "I am not as foolish as I look, after all!"

Sarai nods and leaves the chamber, betraying little sound of her departure. She pauses just long enough to give a faint smile toward the fennec's comment, before disappearing into the corridor.

Roho stirs the herbs as the water warms slowly, "When is the Sabaoth's next meal time?"

Boghaz frowns. "He eats very little. But it should be an hour, perhaps."

A couple of Vartan guards, of similar demeanor and appearance to those who dragged out the badger, appear to take places on each side of the entrance to the room.

Roho nods, and takes another bundle of leaves from his pouch, "If my treatment passes inspection, it will be the tea twice a day, and one of these leaves broken into his food at each mealtime… "

Boghaz nods, mentally taking notes. "That can be easily arranged."

Roho holds his paw over the brew, "It's ready… "

Boghaz walks over, and takes a cup brought by one of the servants. "If I can handle this tea, then surely the Sabaoth will."

Boghaz hands the cup to Roho, taking a moment to realize that if he's expecting the blind fox to pour a cup for him while he's holding it, things could get ugly with that hot tea…

"Pour me a cup," Boghaz bids, in case the gesture does not suffice.

As the cup's pressed into his paw, Roho fills it with the hot brew.

Boghaz' nose wrinkles a bit as he sniffs at the drink, then braces itself and downs its contents as quickly as he can bear.

The warrior bat winces at the bitter taste, making a very unpleasant expression.

Roho tenses as he waits for the verdict…

The bat lets out an audible wince, closing his eyes tightly.

Boghaz at last opens his eyes. "It tastes horrible."

Roho nods, "Medicine rarely tastes good… "

Boghaz says, "Of course. If it had been another of those syrupy sweet concoctions, I would have thought you a fraud." With that, he stands. "I will not wait for Thath's approval. Your methods will be tried – and you will remain in the palace until we see results, for good or ill."

Roho nods, "There is one more thing… "

Roho rasps, "These medicines are not a cure."

Boghaz frowns. "Then what good are they?" he demands.

Roho rasps, "I don't know what is causing the ailment. These medicines will help Sabaoth, make him strong, make him feel well. But if the underlying problem is not treated, then we are no further than we are now, for all medicines lose their potency in time."

Roho rasps, "If these herbs help him, I will need to observe him longer."

Boghaz scrutinizes Roho, but at last nods. "Very well then. Even if he is still ill, if there is any reprieve from his weakening condition, it is better than nothing."

Roho nods, "His first treatment should be given as soon as possible."

"Then let us tarry no more," Boghaz states. "The Sabaoth will not know to complain if his meal comes early. Let us see to him immediately."

Roho rasps, "The tea doesn't need to be given at the meals, we can give that now if he wants to wait on eating… "

Boghaz thinks of the wretched taste. "Perhaps it would be best to have something to chase the bitterness."

Roho chuckles and nods, "Indeed, it might even convince him to eat more of his meal."

Roho rasps, "Oh, one more part to the treatment… he must drink as much water as he can."

"That shall be simple enough to manage," Boghaz adds. "Gather your things," he says, then heads out into the corridor and strides off to fetch a slave.

Roho gathers his herbs, and the pot of liquid, and follows Boghaz.

Roho shakes his head, hoping he's doing the right thing, and not about to lose his head to an axe. He steps into Sabaoth's chamber after Boghaz.

( … )

Some time later, the door to the cell that serves as Roho's "quarters" is opened up by a guard. The snake pokes its broad, triangular head in, tongue flitting about. "The Ssssabaoth hasssss finisssshed desssssert," the Naga hisses. "You are being moved to better quarterssssss."

Roho chuckles and sits up on the rough stone cot, "Oh… thank you… "

The fennec is led through the interior of the palace … into a chamber that is far nicer than the cell he was roughly escorted to after the Sabaoth began gagging and choking at his tea.

Roho breathes a sigh, having half been convinced that he was being walked to some punishment. "The Sabaoth is okay, then?"

It is of a similar construction to most of the others, though there are wide, open windows providing a view of the city expanse and the starry night sky outside, and letting in fresh air. A firepit provides enough warmth to combat any chill such ventilation may bring. The Naga looks to Roho. "He isssss better," the gold-and-black snakeman hisses, and gestures to Roho to enter the room.

A bedroll lies toward one side. A small table bears a bowl of fruits. Some fine robes are draped over some sort of rack. Many other amenities would seem to hint that Roho's ministrations have been taken in a more positive light now.

Roho smiles and sits on the bed, "Well, this is certainly more comfortable… "

The snake looks around. "Be comfortable while you can," he hisses. "If the Ssssabaoth getssss worsssse … we sssstill have a cccccell." With that, he slithers out of the chamber, leaving the fox alone.

Roho chuckles drily, as the snake speaks and departs, "Indeed." He stretches out on the bed.